


Songs Haunt Us Both

by Rhydnara



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, Lyrium Addiction, Mages and Templars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-21
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-31 15:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3983347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhydnara/pseuds/Rhydnara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhydnara's locked in her rooms, and Cullen may be the only one who can help her.  Confronting the past is never easy, but Cullen will do anything to save the woman he loves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Songs Haunt Us Both

**Author's Note:**

> I probably took a few liberties with how magic/demons/the Fade works, but I tried to keep it pretty realistic. This takes place shortly after they share their first kiss, but before he admits he's quit lyrium.
> 
> Siwan is Welsh for Joanna.

A headache was just starting to set in when the door to the Commander's office flung open. A very flustered Ambassador strode into the room, clutching a set of keys in one hand and her usual noteboard in the other.

"Josephine!" Cullen called out. His mind immediately turned to overdrive, taking in her haggard face and thinking of every possible attack route through Skyhold.

"Commander," Josephine answered. "The Inquisitor hasn't been seen in several hours." She glanced around the room, hoping to spot Rhydnara's face among the soldiers crowded around the office. Cullen quickly dismissed everyone from the room and shook his head. She wasn't there.

Josephine's face fell. "I tried knocking on her door, but it was locked." Ice shot through Cullen's stomach. Rhydnara never locked her door. She, like him, knew the necessity of constant availability. Josephine held out the keys. "I heard what sounded like crying, then a loud crash. I think you need to go to her." Cullen nodded and took the keys, briefly wondering why Josephine would have access to the Inquisitor's private quarters before filing it away to worry about later.

Then he was through the door and almost running across the path. Twisted ideas ran through his head. Was she hurt? Was there an attack? And why would she lock her door?

He took the steps two at a time, then pounded on the door. He heard muffled sobs, enough to force him to intrude on the one place designed as hers. He flipped through the keys until he found the right one, then pushed the door open, and drew in a shocked gasp.

The room was a disaster. Papers were strewn across the floor, mixed with broken glass from the wide doors to the balcony. The couch was flipped over, and a chair was lying in several pieces dangerously close to the hearth where a fire threatened to spill out into the room. The curtains around the bed hung in tatters, the sheets ripped and torn. The room stank of blood, with scattered small puddles soaking into the floorboards. He cast his eyes around quickly, taking in the destruction before finding the Inquisitor huddled in a corner with her knees drawn up to her chest and her head buried in her arms.

Cullen rushed over and dropped to his knees. Her tunic was torn. He saw her wrists for the first time beneath the ripped cloth. Two jagged scars ran across her wrists, pulsing red. Smaller scratches coated her arms, slowly weeping blood. He reached out to grab her wrists, but she huddled closer.

"I'll kill you too," she whispered.

I'll kill you before you can kill me. She had whispered that, back in Kinloch Hold.

Solona sits huddled in a corner. It is the night before her Harrowing, and she is terrified. He can smell the rank fear in the air. It crackles with energy. He is barely an initiate, the lyrium in his blood a simple whisper. But he knows she is in terrible danger.

"Rhydnara, talk to me." Cullen grasped her chin and lifted her head. Her eyes were puffy, swollen and red. Tears leaked out to skitter across her face. Their eyes met, and he saw the same fear.

"I want to help you." But he doesn't know how. It will take months of constant lyrium use before he can effectively blanket magic. But if he cries out, calls for help, they will kill her.

"No, I'll just hurt you."

He starts to recite the Chant of Light, not knowing what else to do. She catches on, and her sing song voice joins his in a whisper. Whether she believes or not doesn't matter. The Chant works its own sort of magic, and she relaxes. The fear recedes, the crackle in the air dies. She is safe. The demons won't claim her this evening.

"Rhydnara, you can't." She didn't have to know that he had no powers. But that shouldn't have mattered. Rhydnara Trevelyan was not a mage. He didn't have to worry about possession, right?

Perhaps it would work again. Something was pestering Rhydnara; that much was obvious. She was too strong of a woman to be crushed like this by simple memories. He would worry later about how a demon was haunting a warrior.

Holding her face in his hands, Cullen started to chant.

"Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter." He paused, gazing into her eyes. She stopped whimpering. 

"Blessed are the peacekeepers, the champions of the just." She was a Trevelyan; she may not believe, but Cullen knew she had the Chant drilled into her since birth.

"Blessed are the righteous," she whispered. He joined in, encouraging her with his deep voice.

"The lights in the shadow. In their blood the Maker's will is written." He switched to another verse, searching through his memory for one that encouraged calm.

"There was no word, for heaven or for earth, for sea or sky." She caught on, and joined in. "All that existed was silence. Then the Voice of the Maker rang out…"

Together, they recited the rest of Threnodies 5:11. Gradually, the tears slowed, then stopped. The strange red pulsing on her wrists faded, leaving her bloodied but still. When they lapsed into silence, Cullen gathered Rhydnara in his arms and carried her to the bed. He shoved aside the torn bedding, and laid her down. She closed her eyes, exhausted.

"No," he gently ordered. "If you sleep, it will come back." She opened her eyes, pleading with him. Cullen sat down next to her and reached for her hand. She didn't draw back, so he clasped it with both of his. He flipped her hand over and started rubbing her palm, careful to avoid the angry scratches. "Talk to me," he pleaded back.

Rhydnara leaned back against the pillows, searching for the right words to start.

"It was a demon." 

Cullen quirked an eyebrow. "I figured."

Rhydnara cracked a small smile, which was quickly replaced with a grimace. She drew in a large breath. "I guess I should start from the beginning." She reached beside her to grab the torn sheets, and started rubbing at the drying blood on her arms. Cullen shook his head, then stood up and walked over to a desk. He rummaged around for a minute, finding clean bandaging. He returned to the bed and sat down again. Reaching for her arms, he started gently bandaging the cuts while Rhydnara wracked her brain, trying to decide where to begin.

"My sister was a mage." Cullen nodded, focusing on tending to her wounds. "She was taken to the Ostwick Circle when she was a teenager, but she kept sending me letters. They all said the same thing. 'I hate it here. Come get me.'" The grimace on her face deepened. "My parents ignored me when I showed them the letters. They said Siwan would adjust. They took her letters and burned them, ordering me to forget about her. As far as they were concerned, they only had one daughter."

Cullen looked up, pity starting to cloud his eyes. Rhydnara stared sullenly at her hands as he wrapped the gauze around them.

"Of course I refused, I just stopped showing them the letters. But the urgency in them grew stronger. She mentioned one Templar, Griffith. He was paying too much attention to her, wouldn't leave her alone. And then the letters stopped." She took a deep breath. "We received a short letter from the Knight Commander. Siwan had failed her Harrowing. She was dead."

Rhydnara met Cullen's eyes. The pity dropped away, replaced with shame. He had saved Solona, but he had stil killed his fair share of mages. While it was difficult for the Templars, it did not come close to comparing what the families went through. "I'm so sorry," he started, but Rhydnara cut him off.

"My parents didn't care, but I did. I left our family manor in the middle of the night and slipped away to the Circle tower. I didn't know what I was going to do, but I had to do something. When I got there, I ran into four mages. I never learned their names, it all happened so fast. They said they had a plan, but they needed help." She rushed on, intent on finishing the story. It would likely drive Cullen away, but she had to finish.

"They needed blood." Cullen jerked, pulling at the bandages. He quickly recovered, trying to hide the disgust that flickered across his face. Rhydnara noticed, but didn't say anything. She pulled her hands away and finished wrapping her wounds herself.

"Yes, blood magic. I didn't know what it was, but I wanted revenge. So I offered my blood, and that's how I got these." She held out her wrists. The scars were covered in bandages, but Cullen caught her meaning. He focused back on her face. Their gazes locked.

"What happened?" He coaxed. She took a deep breath and continued. 

"I don't know. I woke up hours later in a room surrounded by corpses. And Galen." The word Galen fell flat. It sat between them, an ugly, twisted word. 

"He was a vengeance demon. I still don't know if he was telling the truth, but he explained that my blood summoned enough demons to cause pure chaos. The bodies around me were mages, and Templars, and probably some people not involved in any of it but were caught in the cross fire. In short, my blood murdered people. I fled, obviously, but Galen's been following me ever since." 

"But you're not a mage!" Cullen couldn't stop the shout coming from his mouth. Rhydnara was a warrior, she was supposed to be safe from possession. None of this should have been possible. 

"He haunted me in my dreams. When it happened, I must have been in some sort of haze, I may not have been awake. My memories from that day are blurry. But after that, once I sorted everything out, he only came to me in dreams. Until I got the Anchor." She started at her palm, the eerie green light quietly simmering just beneath the skin. "Now he can come out whenever he wants." 

Cullen sat dumbfounded. He searched for words and came up with nothing. He couldn't keep her safe, couldn't banish this Galen. All of his years of training were useless in this situation. He could help her Chant, but how much could that help in the future? "What does he want?" Cullen finally asked. 

"He wants me to kill myself so he can possess my body. When things get…bad…" she paused, glancing at something on the desk, "He talks to me. Tells me everything I've done wrong. I've tried everything to get him to stop. That was why I was at the Conclave. I hoped someone there could help." Her eyes welled at the memory, and a tear threatened to escape from her eyes. "Now, when I get overwhelmed by all this," She waved her hand, indicating Skyhold and all it contained, "he comes back." Her eyes squeezed shut, the tear sliding down her cheek. Her head dropped back against the pillow. She was exhausted. Cullen knew she needed rest. He stood up and helped her curl up in the blankets. Her tale finally told, Rhydnara sunk into the soft bedding and drifted off to sleep. Cullen stalked over to where she had indicated on the desk and found a crumpled letter. How it had escaped the chaos when so much of her paperwork lay smoldering in the hearth was beyond him. He didn't feel comfortable prying into her private life, but he needed to know what set her off. 

The letter was short, in clipped straight lines. It was stamped with the Templar seal, next to the seal of Ostwick. 

"Rhydnara, 

We know what you did. We know where you are. Inquisition or no, we will destroy you." 

The letter was unsigned, but the seals at the top left no question who had sent it. He threw the letter into the fire and turned back to Rhydnara. He fumbled in his pocket, and pulled out a clear vial filled with blue liquid. He stared at it in his palm, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind. 

Kinloch Hold. The Gallows. Rhydnara's sister, Siwan. So much pain and suffering caused by the blue liquid. It sloshed back and forth in his palm, singing its siren song. He had thought it an evil, cruel thing, had struggled to be rid of the leash the Chantry held over him. But when he looked back at Rhydnara curled up in the bed, he knew there was no other choice. He pulled the stopper from the vial and threw back the contents in his mouth. The sharp, metallic taste hit his tongue and his body was flooded with renewed energy. He quickly shed his armor and lay down next to Rhydnara, wrapping strong arms around her and pulling her close. Enough lyrium had built up in his system over the years that he didn't have to wait long before he could cast a cleansing field, banishing demons and this Galen from her dreams. 

Templar or Commander, it didn't matter. He would gladly put on as many leashes as it took to keep her safe.

**Author's Note:**

> And now that I've written this piece, I'm going to go hug Cullen and get rid of all of the lyrium in his office.


End file.
